The Lion of the Beats

Valery Oisteanu

Originally published in The Evergreen Review Issue 106 in 2003.

a sitting meditation for Allen Ginsberg

Maybe immortality will come calling on East 13th Street And feel the void left behind in the big loft Maybe the bold flag-bearers for the beats Will march tonight throughout Tibet Maybe the Dalai Lama will proclaim your spirit as a Divine Entity Lion of Dharma How come you came to die so soon? Love dies, body dies, flowers die But the anarchistic spirit keeps growing Last drink, last phone call, last joint Last poem, last new moon like a withered white rose The circle has closed Now we are the flag-bearers with long hair for the hippie generation The voice of the beatniks, of generations possessed Now is the time for the post-beats, the freedom-obsessed E=mc2 at 2:00 A.M., April 5, 1997 The hour of our discontent The portals of heaven are opened by Buddha It's hard to amend your untimely death, your brave song's end The monks are chanting, led by Rimpoche Aum Mane Padhme Aum We read together at Chinese Chance, at St. Marks Church, at TNC And finally at Huncke's memorial Allen Ginsberg, you asked my friend, what is his name again? Pointing towards me Too late now, My name is sitting Shiva, in sitting meditation For the lion of the freedom For the lion of New York